


Hide and Seek

by S J Hartsfield (abbykate)



Series: Hide and Seek [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Come along John, Let's take a bite out of crime, These tags mean nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-16
Updated: 2012-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:53:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbykate/pseuds/S%20J%20Hartsfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither man spoke; they knew enough to keep quiet and let the culprit reveal himself in a place where there was no sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hide and Seek

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the scheme: Jill decided that she, abbykate, and S.J. Hartsfield should all take lines from Imogen Heap's "Hide and Seek" and use them as titles for drabbles. They each picked five. They will be posted as a series, in the order in which they fall in the song.

Twin sets of footfalls slapped the concrete as they swerved, disappearing into the dark of the abandoned warehouse.  Sherlock had already phoned Lestrade (at John’s insistence – he’d originally wanted to leave him out of the ‘fun’ entirely) and the authorities were on their way, but that hadn’t stopped the pair of them jetting off into the night.

It never did.

They were only a bit winded by the time the dimness engulfed them, but they stopped, letting their eyes adjust.  John’s gun was cool and ready, a reassuring presence in his hands to counterpoint the one at his back.  The building had no electricity (abandoned, of course it didn’t) and the streetlights outside did little to alleviate the gloom.  John’s pupils dilated, blowing as wide as they could, letting in whatever they were offered.  Neither man spoke; they knew enough to keep quiet and let the culprit reveal himself in a place where there was no sight.

There.  He was trying to be silent, but true silence is impossible and John whirled.   But the sound was already lost in another, of someone running off, and John realized he was alone.  Sherlock had gone after him, leaving John in the black.  He lowered his gun and listened hard.

Nothing.

“Sherlock,” he hissed, knowing he was betraying his position and not caring overmuch.  The man they sought was unarmed and he could hardly get the jump on him in this situation.  “Sherlock.”

When he received no reply, no whisper, no scuffle, he finally began to panic.  His coat had been a blessing as he ran outside, pinpricks of sleet attacking his face and hands, but now it clung to him, heavy and hot now.  It was oppressive, and something cold was settling beneath the coat, beneath his skin, lodging between his ribs.  “Sherlock!”  _Why had he left him_?

At his ear.  “John.”

He almost screamed – true silence, it seemed, was not impossible after all.  “Where have you _been_?”

“Working.”  He sounded almost exasperated, as though John should have picked up on that.  He sounded like that a lot. 

John laid a hand on his chest and for a moment felt the heartbeat there.  Then he shoved, hard.  The taller man nearly toppled.  _Good_.  “Don’t.  Do that.  Again.”


End file.
